A Rainy Day [COMPLETE]

Chapter 1

My heels click against the tiled ground as I sprint down the wide tunnels. Eyes are scratched into my back as I continue jumping from one leg to another.

Faster, faster, is all that motivates me to keep going. My knees bend with every step I encounter and my soft, curled hair joins the air which is whipping past my figure. As I take in the sound my heels create with the floor, I keep my fingers tightly wrapped around the straps of my black handbag.

Just as my head turns the corner, I spot what I've been racing towards. My body is exhausted and my lungs are practically out of breath, but I continue to drag myself to the Metro train's doors. Right after I stepped foot inside, the doors shut behind me. Relief washes over me and I can breathe normally again.

Hallelujah, I made it.

I'm not very warm, considering that I'm wearing a spaghetti strap tucked into my short, high waisted pencil skirt. No jacket to comfort my chills and nothing to fill my empty, morning stomach with. My feet, on the other hand, are dying and feel like they are setting fire to my legs. Too bad all the seats were already taken by other people.

Ten minutes wither by and my ride on the train is gradually coming to an end. The minute I notice the train slow down, my fingers unwrap themselves from the pole and I wander down the aisle of the train. I begin to step toward the still closed door when, all of a sudden, the train jolts and throws me off course. I attempted to reach out for something, but there was nothing to grasp. Embracing myself for the worst, I land on something quite soft. Within seconds, I realize my arm is holding onto a shoulder as he is carrying my torso and legs.

"Sorry," I apologize, lifting myself off of him.

"It's alright," he responds with a smile that fits so well with his accent I have to catch myself from drooling. Without turning back, I head for the open doors and fix my shirt.

My eyes accidentally glance back at the man only to find him staring back at me. As I leave the inside of the train to step outside, the gaze I hold with the gentleman doesn't falter. The connection shatters swiftly after the train leaves the station and speeds off into the distance.

Many of the men who sit or lean against the subway walls swoon over me with the whistles that escape their mouths as I saunter by. I rush my way out until I reach the streets of London. As I make my way through London and it's roads, I discover a huge skyscraper towering over me. Minutes later, I find myself at the front desk of this building, staring at a woman who is sitting over a countertop made of white marble.

Behind her, is a wall of glass, so thick it almost looks soundproof. Through the glass, I observe the small food court constructed into the building.

"Hello. What can I do for you today?" The polite looking lady in front of me had her brunette hair up in a bun and a sweet smile.

"I'm here for an interview," I retort, hoping I wasn't dozing off. 

"Alright. It's the forty-eighth floor, the last room on the left." I stand there with my fingers clasping the straps of my bag and send her a little smile.

"Thank you," I say before making my way towards the elevators. After waiting patiently for the machine to reach the floor, I watch floor number forty-seven pop up on the little screen. Just as I was ready to leave the little room, the elevator started to fall.

Without thinking, I clutch onto the railing and ease my way to the floor. The moment I do this, the machine I'm trapped in ceases moving. My lungs take in deep amounts of air as I make certain that it's safe to stand. The machine begins to pull me up once again, but I have other plans to get off at the nearest floor and take the stairs.

There was only one problem. The buttons weren't doing their job. I pressed for the next upcoming floor, but the cables wouldn't stop hauling me up. Once I had reached the forty-eighth floor the doors slid open and I leaped out of the death trap.

"Congratulations, you passed," a woman with shiny black hair and long nails states as she grips a clipboard and jots things down.

"What? What do you—your elevator is broken. I could've got hurt." A crease forms between my brows as I point towards the elevator doors while squeezing the handles of my purse.

"Walk it off. Everyone's gone through it. Now, do you have your ID on you?" I release a short scoff and glare at her with disbelief.

"Y-Yes, I have it," I reply and begin to slip my fingers into my opened purse.

"Oh, I don't need it. The person who's interviewing you is going to take it." I swear this girl, I could just...strangle her. She motions me to follow her with the simple wave of her hand and we start walking.

We pass by several, identical cubicles. The men carried similar, clean haircuts and the ladies wore pencil skirts shorter than mine. Out of nowhere, and I mean NOWHERE, the lady who was leading the way suddenly stopped. Saying I almost ran her over like a monster truck would be an overstatement because we were the same height.

She snaps her head towards the opaque glass door and places her hand on the silver handle.

"After you," her lifeless voice spoke as I followed her commands. Right after taking the first few steps inside, I stop and the door closes shut, causing the cold air from the building to hit my back. All that filled my eyes in the room were a few plants, a white desk, and of course the back of a black, office chair.

"Sit down," the person from the chair ordered and soon enough my anxious legs dragged me over.

Seconds later, she greeted me with stern eyes and an unwelcoming straight lip. On her desk was a file that she flipped open and immediately started reading aloud.

"Miss Sharp. Twenty-two years of age, great health, hasn't broken any law—wait. You had a chil—" she struggles to finish the word as I interrupt.

"Yes, I'm aware of that, now could we please move on?" She tilts her head up so that our eyes meet. Her red hair outlines the pale skin on her face as it cascades down her chest. Her eyes are so serious that I feel like the interview is already over, but I keep myself steady.

"As you wish. So tell me, why do you want this job? Why do you believe you are of use to this company?" she asked, rushing straight into the questions.

"The reason I left my previous position was because the company had nothing else to offer me, so I'm ready to move on to the next step. I tend to work well with people, I'm reliable, I can accomplish tasks on time, and meet most of the skills required for this position," I answer casually as my eyes hook onto hers.

The interview went on for a few more minutes before we started to wrap up the conversation.

"Well, congratulations Miss Sharp. It looks like you'll be working with us from now on." I nod my head before we both stand up in unison and shake hands. "When can you start working?"

"As soon as possible." A curve leaks into my lips below my bold eyes.

Moments later, she gives me a little insight into my daily tasks, and when I was going to begin working. Then, she showed me my little cubicle and handed me a stack of papers to sort.

This is going to be a new start. I won't mess up this time.